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Kingsley, Charles, 1819-1875

"Hereward, the Last of the English"

He was
anxious as to the temper of the monks. He foresaw all that Torfrida had
foreseen. And as for Torfrida herself, he was half mad. Ivo Taillebois's
addition to William's message had had its due effect. He vowed even
deadlier hate against the Norman than he had ever felt before. He ascended
the heights to Sutton. It was his shortest way to Ely. He could not see
Aldreth from thence; but he could see Willingham field, and Belsar's
hills, round the corner of Haddenham Hill.
The sun was setting long before they reached Ely; but just as he sank into
the western fen, Winter stopped, pointing. "Was that the flash of arms?
There, far away, just below Willingham town. Or was it the setting sun
upon the ripple of some long water?"
"There is not wind enough for such a ripple," said one. But ere they could
satisfy themselves, the sun was down, and all the fen was gray.
Hereward was still more uneasy. If that had been the flash of arms, it
must have come off a very large body of men, moving in column, and on the
old straight road between Cambridge and Ely. He hastened on his men. But
ere they were within sight of the minster-tower, they were aware of a
horse galloping violently towards them through the dusk. Hereward called a
halt. He heard his own heart beat as he stopped.


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